


Bedgate

by kay_emm_gee



Series: the kids aren't alright (The 100 tumblr prompts) [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Bellarke + #6 ('Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?')</p><p>Summary: Clarke is none too pleased to come home after a double shift at the hospital to find a certain roommate's older brother passed out drunk in her bed, but there's not much she can do about it except to crash there with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedgate

_A small party_ , Octavia said.  _It’ll be just our usual group of friends_ , she said.

In the silent, just-before-dawn darkness, Clarke stood dumbfounded in their apartment doorway, taking in the leftover mess that greeted her. Cursing Octavia under her breath, Clarke struggled to make her way from the front door of their apartment through the cluttered living area to get to her room and the much-needed bed inside it. A double shift at the hospital already had her on edge, but now having to dodge half-empty beer bottles and rogue pong balls scattered across their sticky floor (which had been pristine when she had left yesterday for work, mind you) had her huffing in annoyance. Rounding the corner of the couch, which a snoring Raven was sprawled across, Clarke stifled a shriek as she narrowly avoided stepping on a very unconscious Monty. Looking oddly comfortable on the floor, he was snuggled into Jasper’s side under a pile of blankets. Her blankets, to be precise.

Great. Now, not only was she going to fall asleep to the stale smell of beer and pizza, but she was also going to freeze while doing it. Feeling her irritation rise, Clarke glared at Octavia’s closed door as she moved down the hall to her own room. As she shut herself inside, she dropped her bag to the ground, exhaling in relief that sleep was only seconds away.

The sound of breathing suddenly echoed in her chilly room, and Clarke whipped around in surprise. From the lump under her comforter, she guessed someone had decided to crash in her bed. Shoving down a frustrated scream, she strode forward and whipped the covers off hastily, not caring if she was being rude. This was her bed, after all.

Clarke whipped the covers back on even more quickly when she saw that it was Bellamy, and that he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Closing her eyes, she counted to ten multiple times, finally realizing that that image of him—conked out in the nude—was now permanently burned into her brain.  _Is that really such a bad thing?_  A part of her whispered, but a low, unattractive snort from Bellamy distracted her from that disturbing thought.

“Bellamy,” she whispered, poking what she assumed was his shoulder. No way was she risking pulling back that curtain again. She’d gotten enough of an eyeful the first time.  _And what an eyeful that was._  Clarke huffed out a bewildered breath, because those thoughts really needed to stop running across her brain.

Turning back to Bellamy, who hadn’t moved an inch, she poked him harder and raised her voice. “Bellamy. Bellamy!”

“Mm, what?” He mumbled, clearly not even remotely awake.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” She hissed, her patience waning.

“Mm drunk. Is comfy,” he slurred. “’N O told me too.”

Rolling her eyes, Clarke realized she’d have quite the list of things to discuss with her roommate tomorrow, not the least of which would be to stop trying to force her and Bellamy together, no matter how hilarious or cute Octavia found it.

Right now, though, there was nothing much she could do. As she watched Bellamy snuggle deeper into the covers, feet twitching as he pulled them under to hide them from the cold air, Clarke sighed in defeat.

_Screw this._

Too tired to figure out another solution, she stripped off her scrubs, down to just her sports bra and underwear. Shaking out her hair, she spotted Bellamy’s discarded T-shirt on the floor.  _Fine, if O wanted a show, she was going to get one._  Clarke slipped the shirt on, then crawled into bed beside Bellamy. She shivered as his warmth rolled over her skin, and she pressed her frozen feet against his calves. Though still asleep, he sucked in a surprised breath at the contact, and Clarke chuckled at the drowsy, sour look now on his face.

“Sorry,” she whispered to his unconscious self, smiling as his expression twitched back to restful.

Then suddenly his arm slipped clumsily over her waist and pulled her into him, so that her head was tucked neatly under his chin. Inhaling, Clarke shivered at the smell of his aftershave, realizing that no matter how tired she was, being this close to Bellamy, feeling all of him (and she did mean  _all_  of him), was too distracting to sleep. She tried her usual methods to bore herself into oblivion—naming the bones of the body, recalling what cities in Europe she still had left to visit, listing the nurses currently pissed off at Dr. Murphy—but nothing worked. As she stared at Bellamy’s bare chest, she began counting the freckles dusted across there, and finally, her eyelids slid closed as she let his heat envelope her, feeling oddly content in his (very naked) embrace.

* * *

 

When Bellamy woke in the morning, he groaned, desperately willing away the pounding in his head. He supposed that’s what he got for letting his sister pour his drinks; he always forgot she drank like a tank and expected everyone else to do the same. She would’ve called him ‘old man’ if he had refused anyways, but the headache now raging against his forehead was making him rethink dealing with the nickname. Exhaling, Bellamy pulled the pillow he was clutching closer. Shock ran through his body as heard the pillow, which was oddly warm, hum out a high-pitched sigh.  _What the hell._

Blinking his eyes open, which proved difficult with the mid-morning sun streaming through the windows opposite the bed, Bellamy finally registered that he was holding a person, not a pillow. He looked down and saw strands of very familiar blonde hair peaking out from underneath the comforter pulled up to his chin.  _What. The. Hell._

Then, as his surroundings came into clearer focus, he noticed the watercolors taped to the wall, and the stack of medical books on the very organized desk to his right. Bellamy swallowed, the details of the room confirming his initial suspicious that somehow, Clarke and he had ended up sleeping in the same bed together. Mind racing, Bellamy tensed, realizing she was beginning to shift over him. As she stretched lazily, he felt a mix of cloth and soft warmth brush against his own bare skin. It finally registered that he was not wearing any clothes, and she was not wearing much more than he was.

“What the hell,” he muttered out loud, trying to remember if she had been there when he had fallen asleep.

“My thoughts exactly when I came home last night to find you here, drunkenly passed out,” Clarke added dryly, her muffled voice still rough with sleep.

Slowly Bellamy peeled back the comforter, and from her position against his chest, Clarke tilted her head up to look at him. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, obviously waiting for him to explain.

He fumbled with words for a few seconds before knocking his head back against the headboard in defeat. “Honestly, I have no memory of the conclusion to last night. Blame Octavia.”

Clarke snorted amusedly, muttering, “Oh, trust me, I will. There’s nothing like coming home to find an uninvited, naked man in your bed after a double-shift at work.”

Bellamy tightened his grip on her, trying to ignore how his fingers tingled as they accidentally slipped under her shirt to brush against her hip. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, not knowing what else to say. “Hey,” he startled, realizing why the fabric felt so familiar. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“You snooze, you lose,” Clarke quipped lightly, a small smile gracing her still-sleepy face.

Before he could respond, the bedroom door flew open and Octavia barreled in. “Hey Bell, we’re making pancakes, how many do you—”

His sister’s voice cut off in a strangled shriek of surprise as she finally registered what she was seeing. With a pleased grin working its way onto her face, Octavia looked between the two of them, eyebrows raised.

“No,” he and Clarke insisted loudly and fervently at the same time.

“Nothing happened,” Bellamy elaborated, scowling at his sister.

“Except my roommate being a conniving sneak,” Clarke tacked on darkly. “I expect breakfast in bed today as retribution for causing me undue anxiety, O.”

“Sure thing,” Octavia agreed surprisingly quickly. “I’ll cook it up right now, and send Jasper in to deliver it.” With a teasing wave, she bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Bellamy groaned, knowing his sister was going to take every opportunity to make sure their friends saw what she had seen.

“Damn it,” Clarke mumbled knowingly against his chest, her breath skating teasingly across his skin.

Trying to keep his voice steady, Bellamy chuckled and replied, “Nice going.”

“Shut up,” she said. “We know nothing happened, that’s all that matters.”

“I’m going to remind you of that months from now when they’re still going on and on about Bedgate.”

With a light laugh, Clarke poked his side. “Bedgate? Really?” 

“What do you want to call it then?”

Clarke looked up at him, eyes dancing with amusement. “How about the time when you finally admitted you’re into me?”

“I never said anything about being into you.”

With a meaningful glance down at his lower half, she stifled a laugh as she said, “You didn’t say anything, but it doesn’t mean I can’t tell that you are.”

“Natural reaction for this time of day,” Bellamy drawled, feeling heat crawl up his cheeks nonetheless.

Shifting up, Clarke steadied herself with a hand to his chest before leaning in and giving him a slow kiss. “How about now?” She asked teasingly once she pulled away.

Bellamy didn’t respond, just pulled her back in for another kiss with a smile. He felt his chest expand at the sensation of her lips on his, closing his eyes as she rose to straddle him. Gripping her waist, he felt her arch into him as he nudged her mouth open to deepen the kiss. After a few minutes of blissful oblivious, Clarke pulled away, humming with regret.

“Don’t want to shock the innocents about to barge in any minute,” she whispered teasingly, falling to one side of him before curling in close.

“Shame,” Bellamy quipped back, pressing a content, smiling kiss to the top of her head. “And we were just getting to the good part.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr (kay-em-gee)!


End file.
